A Taste of Home: Denmark

“A Taste of Home” is a regular magazine column in which we ask the natives of a particular country to introduce us to their national cuisine.

A few months ago, if you’d asked me what “smushi” was, I’m not sure I would have had an answer. I might have guessed it was sushi battered senseless with the blunt edge of a meat cleaver or flattened out with a rolling pin. But I can’t be sure I’d even have thought it had anything to do with food.

Thanks to Royal Smushi House, this portmanteau of “smørrebrød” and “sushi” is currently the first – perhaps only – association many Beijingers will make with Danish cuisine. In fact, the smushi was invented just a few years ago by Copenhagen’s Royal Cafe (Royal Smushi House’s parent restaurant).

Over lunch at Royal Smushi House, Marie Louise Flach de Neergaard acknowledges as much. “These aren’t common in Denmark,” says the Danish Embassy’s Minister-Counselor for Food, Agriculture & Fisheries. However, smushis are basically a mini version of the extremely traditional Danish smørrebrød, so we order a variety (RMB 90 for three, plus soup and coffee or tea) to get us started.

“This is very much lunch, we wouldn’t ever have this for dinner,” says de Neergaard of the smørrebrød/smushi concept – a sole slice of rye bread, piled high with toppings. I note that the Danes seem fond of smothering their fish and meat with sour ingredients like red cabbage, pickles, beets and capers. This is an acquired taste for me, and one that I can only do in measured doses, but the textures are enjoyable – the dense, rough rye bread working at turns with smooth, crunchy and fleshy toppings.

Smushis are fine, but what else is there to Danish cuisine? We look to the dinner menu – although it’s lunch, the waitress is happy to oblige, allowing us to order the traditional Danish crispy pork (flæskesteg, RMB 210). “Very typical,” says de Neergaard. In fact, pork is everywhere in Danish cuisine: “Pork meatballs, cooked smoked ham, pork cutlets and boiled pork. We’re five million people and we produce more than 30 million pigs,” de Neergaard adds proudly. No wonder they can sacrifice so much bacon for British fry-ups.

Our Danish representative gives the crispy pork the thumbs-up. “It’s nice, has a good taste, although it’s not as tender as it would be at home. Also, I see they’ve learned to slice it properly – last time I was here they cut it in the wrong direction.”

“The best part is the skin,” says de Neergaard, setting us up for the all-important crackling. “Wow,” our host nods in approval. “It’s difficult to get it that crispy, but that’s really perfect.” A side of red cabbage, cooked with cloves, adds a warm, reassuring aroma to this wintery favorite.

As the conversation turns towards home, I ask de Neergaard what Danes in Beijing crave. “I’d want a Danish sausage stand here – we have these wagons they drag around and serve hot dogs from them. It’s great, so simple – just the bread, sausage and ketchup. Straight off the plane home, it’ll be the hot dog stand in the arrival hall. They know people want it either before they’re leaving or when they’re coming home, so it’s really expensive. Then, of course, the Danish pastry.”

Ah, the Danish pastry. Anyone whose home has given the world something so widely (and often unsuccessfully) imitated should recognize the compulsive reflex de Neergaard describes. “I used to pass the bakeries here, and I’d see the Danish pastry and think, ‘Oh I’d like to try that one.’ I was always disappointed, so now I’ve just stopped.” Though she expresses enthusiasm for Smushi House’s effort, de Neergaard says she avoids Danish pastry in Beijing now.

I ask what other dining options exist for Danes in Beijing. De Neergaard shakes her head. “This is basically the place – when I get a craving for Denmark, it’s here.” I mention Bleu Marine – Danish-owned, although the steak-and-fries menu is usually characterized as French. “I don’t know it, but I’ll have to try it,” admits de Neergaard.

“Of course, if you really get a craving, the easiest thing is to cook it yourself,” de Neergaard adds optimistically. “In Denmark, we’ve got marinated herring in many different flavors. That’s very typical. You can’t find that in restaurants here, but it’s easy to find herring in the shops. Though the Swedish herring they sell at Ikea is totally different.” Ikea crops up again when we discuss rye bread. “People say ‘Just go and get it in Ikea’ ... That’s for the Swedes! Their rye bread is sweet.”

We order another seasonal dish, the rice pudding, to finish. De Neergaard isn’t too enthusiastic (“I had this before, it wasn’t great”) but recommends it as another typically Danish dish. A creamy vanilla rice pudding, served with a dollop of cherry sauce, arrives. Our host perks up. “This looks better than last time,” she starts. “But you should add almonds. No almonds here. That’s a big mistake, because the almonds give it a crunchiness.”

Give or take the almonds, I could eat bowls of this stuff. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

Royal Smushi House Daily 7am-10.30pm. 12 Dongzhimenwai Dajie, Chaoyang District (6416 9664) 皇家慕喜, 朝阳区东直门外大街12号

Click here to see the January issue of the Beijinger in full.

Photos: Judy Zhou